


Sam And Dean Winchester Discover The Secrets Of The Universe

by Juul



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7253071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juul/pseuds/Juul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean makes Sam jealous, and Sam makes sure he never does it again. Kink exploration follows.  Previously titled <i>Green Eyed.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Eyed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for brothersandlovers for the third Wincest Love Week.

“Oh God. I’m sorry, Sammy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry please oh God please.”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled darkly in Dean’s ear. “You’ll be sorry, alright.”

He had Dean pressed against the rough bricks of the alley, one cheek pressed uncomfortably against the stone. He’d shoved Dean’s legs apart roughly and his jeans were down around his ankles, but his boxers were still on. Sam firmly kept both of Dean’s wrist restrained with his left hand while tweaking Dean’s nipples with his right. He wasn’t doing it for pleasure. He was doing it for _punishment_ and Dean, the guy with the most sensitive nipples in the world, was begging him to stop.

“Ahh, Sam, it hurts.”

Sam was scratching at Dean’s left nipple with his thumbnail now, and had no problem believing that it did. He breathed heavily on Dean’s neck and said: “You love it.”

Dean’s knees almost gave out. Sam had to keep him upright by pressing him against the wall. 

“What are you sorry for, Dean?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I flirted with that guy. I’m sorry I danced with him.”

“And?” Sam was stroking Dean more gently now, but Dean was so sensitive that the touches still made him whine.

“And I’m sorry for teasing you. Oh, oh, Sam, please take me home and fuck me.”

“No,” said Sam. “I’m going to fuck you right here. I hope that guy leaves just as you’re bouncing on my dick, so he’ll see who you really belong to.”

Dean stopped struggling against Sam’s hold quite suddenly. He was still shaking a little, and the pleading noises didn’t let up, but he turned completely to jelly. He had entered that special corner in his mind where he trusted Sam to take care of him. He would let Sam do absolutely anything at this point, and they both knew it.

Sam inhaled sharply as the power rush hit him. Fuck yes, Dean was always so good for him. Only for him.

Sam yanked Dean’s boxers down and froze. 

“Dean,” his voice cracked on the word suddenly. “You’re prepped already.”

Dean was a little fuzzy, but he was so tuned into Sam’s voice that he answered regardless. “Yeah,” he said, in the turned-on voice that made Sam crazy. “I wanted to be ready for you.”

Sam dropped to his knees, right in the middle of the street. Dean swayed and Sam quickly gripped his slender hips to steady him. He pressed his face against Dean’s crack and breathed in the musky smell. Fuck yes.

“Dean,” he said sternly. “I appreciate you wanting to be ready for me. But you didn’t think that would keep me from toying with you a little bit first, did you?”

Sam grinned devilishly even though Dean wasn’t able to see him. Dean, whose wrists were bruised a little from Sam’s grip and wasn’t that the hottest thing ever, was now hiding his face in his hands. He could never look at Sam when…

When Sam rimmed him. And Sam started rimming him now. He spread Dean’s cheeks apart with hands that spanned them completely, and made sure to squeeze firmly so it would bruise, just a little. Just enough to hurt, just enough to make Dean crazy when he was driving the car tomorrow.

He licked broad stripes on Dean’s hole and into it, and Dean just keened and whined and begged for more, pressing his whole body more closely against Sam’s.

Sam added a finger, then two.

Dean started babbling again. “Sam, Sam please, oh please,” there was a warning edge to his voice, a certain desperation that made Sam want to never stop.

“Please what?” 

Just as Dean was about to answer, Sam bit his left cheek and watched the skin turn red. Dean couldn’t speak.

“Please what, Dean?” Sam repeated.

“Please fuck me now, please.”

Sam laughed, tried to make the sound loud and mocking. “Why would I do that? Why would I give you exactly what you want when I’m trying to punish you?”

Dean didn’t have an answer for that, just a few more breathy noises.

“I thought so,” Sam said, and he added a third finger to Dean’s hole, twisting them just so that he’d hit the sweet spot.

“I’ll _come,_ ” Dean wailed. He didn’t sound like he was kidding, either.

“I don’t think you will,” Sam answered. “Because you’re not allowed.”

Dean made a high pitched sound.

“Please, please, please, please.”

Sam upped the pace of his fingers fucking Dean, and said firmly: “No.”

“Please, please, I can’t, I can’t oh God I can’t hold it.”

“You’re going to come just from a couple of fingers?” Sam mocked. “You’re going to come like a _girl?_ Just like any cheap slut in the middle of the street?”

It wasn’t fair. Sam knew dirty words like that got Dean hotter than almost anything else. But Sam was prepared. Just after he finished his sentence, when the meaning of the words hit Dean and he started to tense in preparation for his orgasm, Sam pulled his fingers out.

Dean threw his head back and made the most beautiful sound Sam had ever heard. Was that a tear in his eye? God, he must want it so fucking bad.

Sam got up again and pressed the full length of his body against Dean’s. He pulled him close with two arms around his waist and brushed his palm over Dean’s cock head. It was leaking and Dean squeaked when Sam touched it.

“Shh, baby, shh. It’s going to be okay. I’ll let you come, I promise. Just, a little bit longer, yeah?”

He could feel the intense pounding of Dean’s heart under his hands, and the slight tremble of his body.

Dean was beyond words.

“You’re so beautiful like this, baby. So gorgeous. Can you hold on just a little longer for me?”

Dean shook with tension but nodded his head jerkily. Sam looked down at where Dean’s cock was bobbing angrily up and down. He was controlling himself without the help of a cockring, Sam reminded himself. Just because he wanted to please Sam. Just because Sam said so. Sam was getting kind of needy himself. 

“D’you still want me to take you home?” he growled at Dean.

“No no no no no right here,” Dean begged. “Do it right here.”

So Sam slid his cock in. It was easy. Dean was all sloppy from Sam’s fingering, and his whole body had gone slack with need and submission. Sam kept his pace slow, aware that Dean was very, very worked up and hadn’t gotten permission yet. Sam loved torturing Dean, but even his cruelty had its limits.

Still, Dean moaned “Ooh,” as Sam worked his way inside, in a slightly alarmed tone. Like he was three seconds away from losing it, permission be damned.

So Sam, with an enormous effort, pulled back out. “You can come, Dean,” and shoved his cock back into Dean’s ass with one rough movement.

Dean came, shaking and crying and coming and coming for longer than Sam had ever seen him do before. It made Sam crazy, that he could get Dean to let go so completely, and he wasn’t far behind.

Neither of them noticed that the dude Dean had been flirting with left the bar just as Sam pulled Dean close and started whispering that he was such a good boy and how much he loved him.


	2. Careful Confessions: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam asks Dean to spill a secret. Then, Sam tells Dean a secret instead.

**Careful Confessions: Part One**

“You’re not listening to me, baby. Anything you want. _Anything._ ”

Sam was spooning Dean, the way they both secretly loved, with Dean’s head tucked safely under Sam’s chin. Sam was running his hands up and down Dean’s body in a way that wasn’t intended to tease him, but did. It had been three days since they’d fucked, and Dean was starting to think maybe Sam had planned it that way. Sam was always the one planning things in the bedroom, and Dean liked that about their relationship; Sam knew him so well that he’d always give Dean exactly what he wanted. When Sam didn’t, for example, when he got down on his knees for Dean sweetly but refused to fuck him, it was a calculated move. Dean was being played, and he was loving it.

“Jesus, Sam, at this point I just want to ride your dick.”

Sam chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam persisted.

“I’m serious, Dean. Tell me about something you get off on that I don’t know about yet.”

Sam felt Dean go tense, and smoothed one huge hand over Dean’s stomach.

“Shh, baby, relax. I just want to make you feel good.”

It was true, of course, but Dean hated asking for what he wanted. Usually, he didn’t have to. But Sam knew Dean didn’t like asking and was making him do it, anyway. So he wouldn’t judge, right? Besides, if Dean played his cards right he could get everything he’d ever wanted. Well, the few things he didn’t have yet.

But he was quiet for too long and Sam broke the silence. “You want me to go first?”

The notion made Dean hot all over. Sam still had dirty secrets to spill. There was still some unexplored way in which Dean could please Sam, some weakness for Dean to take advantage of. Hell yes.

“Yeah,” said Dean, voice a little hoarse.

“Alright. Sam pulled him a little closer, so that his dick was a delicious tease against Dean’s crack. His mouth on Dean’s ear, he said: “But you gotta promise me that if I tell you something good, you’ll tell me something good in return”

That was hard. It would have to be _the thing._ There was nothing, literally nothing else Sam didn’t know yet. But it was fair, and Dean was dying to know what Sam would tell him.

“I promise,” said Dean, and they both knew he meant it. Dean didn’t make false promises.

Sam took a deep breath, his palm still idly running up and down Dean’s chest, circling around a nipple every now and then. It occurred to Dean, belatedly, that Sam would be nervous, too.

“Sometimes,” Sam started, but he broke off again. His voice was small and a little nervous, and Dean flipped around to look him in the eye. 

“You can tell me. Whatever it is. You can tell me.”

Sam closed his eyes, blushing furiously, and in one long breath he said: “Sometimes I wish you’d never come without my permission ever again.”

“Oh,” said Dean weakly. “Oh.”

Sam’s eyes were still closed. “I get that that’s a totally unfair thing to ask of you, I do. It’s just a fantasy and obviously we’d talk about it beforehand. And the same safe word would apply as always. But I just… it’s just something that I really…”

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was wobbly. “Sam, can I come _right now?_

Sam opened his eyes. Dean was pressed close to him, erection against Sam’s hip and face buried in Sam’s neck, but Sam had been so nervous that he’d failed to notice the state Dean was in. He was flushed, and sweaty, and completely tense and his brow was furrowed the way it only was when he was right on the edge.

Sam couldn’t breathe. Dean was simply too beautiful. “No,” he said, voice low and dangerous. Dean got off on it. Dean got off on it so hard that he came all over himself, untouched, making small breathy noises in the back of his throat. Dean came, just because Sam told him he couldn't.

Sam looked on as it happened, gobsmacked and blindingly turned on.

“We’ll have to work on that,” Dean said sheepishly.

Sam whispered: “I’d ask whether you were into that idea, but the answer is kind of obvious.”

_To Be Continued_


	3. Careful Confessions: Part Two

**Careful Confessions: Part Two**

Dean’s breathing was still labored. He’d just come, but already the idea of Sam controlling his orgasms had burrowed its way into his brain, and it was kryptonite.

“No cock rings,” Sam said, his hands still touching Dean everywhere he could reach. “No cages or stuff. Just you, holding your cum because I tell you to.”

Dean made a noise. It was meant to be affirmative, but he wasn’t sure he got his point across.

“Also no jerking off, obviously, without permission.” Sam went on. His voice was now detached and businesslike, almost cold, and it made Dean want to bend over for him like a whore. He willed his cock to stay down, just for a little while. The hotness of the whole thing was too much. 

“I’d like to fuck you, sometimes, without you getting to come. Imagine how tight you’d be.” 

Dean felt something hot in his stomach, a mixture of apprehension and excitement and _God_ he wanted all of it now.

“Or I’d make you wank for a really long time, just getting closer and closer and never quite getting there. You think I could make you cry, Dean, like you did the other day in the alley?”

Dean made a noise that was almost pained. He was hard again, he was so hard.

“You thought I hadn’t noticed, right?” Sam asked. Then: “Answer me.”

“No,” Dean whispered.

“That’s naive, Dean. I notice everything about you. Can I tell you a secret?”

Dean nodded his head, clenched his hands into fist to keep from touching himself or rubbing himself off against Sam again. He wasn’t fucking _allowed._

“Since I started fucking you, you’ve never ever come without permission. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but it’s true. I always tell you first. I always say ‘come now, baby,’ or something. But I think I might be done being nice for a while.”

Dean shuddered. _Fuck._

“S-Sam?”

“Yeah, baby? Breathe slow, relax. You need to calm down a little.”

Sam’s voice was concerned, definitely, but it was also a little condescending, like Dean being out of his mind with arousal was amusing to Sam. Dean couldn’t help but think that ‘you need to calm down a little’ probably meant ‘get used to being frustrated.’

Dean tried very hard to think of gross monsters or something, and to even out his breathing.

“I still haven’t told you what _I_ want,” he managed.

“That’s right,” Sam said. “You haven’t.” He pulled Dean close again, but not close enough to rut against Sam’s hip. One hand on Dean’s asscheek, he started dragging one finger along the crack. Dean breathed deeply, tried to hold on to his focus. He was so turned on. He was so turned on, and Sam was the only one who could do anything about it. 

“So tell me,” Sam prompted.

“You won’t judge?”

“Whatever it is, if you tell me honestly you’ll get to come again tonight. While I fuck you.”

That was incentive enough. “I get off on the fact that we’re brothers, sometimes.” He spat it out quickly, not meeting Sam’s eye as he spoke.

“Turn over, Dean,” Sam’s voice was low and dangerous and for a moment Dean wondered whether he’d taken it too far. But then Sam added: “Let your little brother look at that beautiful ass,” and all was right in the world.


	4. Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

**Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want**

“S-sammy… please. You said…you promised…”

“Shh,” Sam breathed, mouth pressed to Dean’s hole. “I did promise. I promised I’d fuck you tonight, and that you’d be allowed to come when I did, right, baby?”

Dean’s hips gave a rough jolt against the sheets.

“Uh, uh,” said Sam. He shook his head warningly from side to side, making sure Dean could feel the movement. “You’re not ready yet.”

“I’ve been ready for over an hour,” Dean protested.

It was true. Sam had fingered Dean, pressing roughly against his prostate, for much longer than he usually did. When at long last he pulled his fingers out and Dean was so excited he couldn’t see straight, Sam had started the rimming. Sam knew, they both knew, how much Dean loved that. How adored and filthy and good it made him feel. They also both knew that he wouldn’t come from it. Dean would just stay like this, desperate and needy and hot, until Sam decided to have mercy.

“The night is long,” Sam assured him, pressing one finger in alongside his tongue. It was incredible, how much Dean wanted it. It was unbelievable. Sam stilled for a moment, just to make sure the powerful feeling of it didn’t push _him_ over the edge.

“Lie on your back, baby,”

Slowly, like he wasn’t sure his body was still solid, Dean turned over. He grabbed the backs of his knees with his hands to grant Sam access.

Sam chuckled. “You’re not going to get me to suddenly hurry up, princess.”

Dean groaned. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, his brow creased with tension and his eyes squeezed shut. His breathing was slow, but heavy, like he was trying his hardest to keep it calm but was unable to stop panting. He looked like a dream come true.

“Look at that,” Sam said reverently. “Look at you. My God, Dean. So beautiful, just opening up your pretty little pussy for me. Are you sure you’re ready?” He ran his fingers up the backs of Dean’s thighs and watched him shudder.

“Yes,” said Dean. “Please, please, please.”

“God,” Sam went on. “You’re wet like a girl. Are you sure you want to start the fucking now, baby?”

“Yes!” Dean interrupted.

“Sure? Because just because you get my cock doesn’t mean you get to come, you know.”

Dean made an incoherent sound and his dick twitched between his legs. How wonderful it was to press all these little buttons, Sam thought.

“Oh, please.”

“Please what, Dean? You want my cock? Because you’re going to have to take it for a while.”

“I want it, I want it, I want it.”

So Sam gave it to him.


	5. How Bad Do You Want It?

**How Bad Do You Want It?**

“How bad do you want it?”

Dean made a desperate noise as Sam pushed his cock head in, Dean’s muscles clamping down on it deliciously, then pulled it back out with a wet ‘pop.’

“That won’t work, baby,” Sam said. “You have to relax. I won’t fit if you don’t relax.”

Dean groaned. It was bullshit; Dean was open enough to take Sam’s cock as well as a bunch of fingers. Actually, that was a good idea.

In a swift movement, Sam pushed all the way, brushing up against Dean’s prostate as he went.

Dean shouted. At first it was incoherent, but then there was the definite sound of “please, please, please,” again, in that high voice Sam just loved.

“You’re not going to come, are you?” Sam taunted. “You’d better not, Dean-o. You don’t have _permission."_ It was a low blow. Sam watched expectantly, but Dean just shuddered. Then, he seemed to steel something within himself, let out a deep breath, and didn’t come.

“Good boy,” said Sam. “Let’s see just how much you can take.”

Dean pulled on the inside of his knees again, bracing himself for the rough thrusts he was used to. But Sam had other plans. 

He pushed a finger into Dean’s mouth. That one didn’t require explaining; Dean sucked it until it was slick with spit. Sam trailed his down his body, the soft, sensitive skin of his neck, to his pointed dark red nipples and down, down. Down Dean’s stomach, which was tense with wanting, and, still with the one torturously gentle finger, down the side of Dean’s cock.

Sam watched breathlessly as Dean’s shaft gave a twitch and spurted wetness. Dean was panting. Sam trailed his sticky finger lower down, to where Dean’s sack was taut with the heaviness of his balls, down along his sweaty crack, to where his cock was splitting Dean open, perfectly still.

Then Sam pushed his finger inside of Dean along with his cock.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh” Dean was babbling.

“What is it, baby? Too much for you?”

Dean nodded frantically, his hips making jerky little movements. “Sammy, Sammy, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna, I’m gonna, oh God.”

But he didn’t. Sam stilled. Didn’t speak, didn’t move, hardly dared to breathe. Dean was going to take it for as long as Sam made him.

“What is it, Dean, am I too much for you?”

“N…no, never,” Dean managed, tears in his voice as well as his eyes.

Sam dragged his cock back out, slowly, relishing in the broken sound of Dean’s begging. 

Enough was enough.

“You can come, Dean.”

Sam pushed back into Dean, hard and rough and angled just right, just the way he knew Dean liked it best. He saw the moment the permission registered in Dean’s brain; he went completely slack, his mouth open in a loud indescribable sound.

Sam was pounding Dean rapidly now, and like he couldn’t quite believe it, Dean was still saying: “Please, please, please, please,” but then he started to come, harder and longer and more gorgeous than Sam had ever seen, and his cries turned to “yes, yes, yes, yes oh God oh Sammy, Sammy yes!”

When Dean finally stilled, Sam pulled him close and whispered: “Was that good, baby?”

Dean was too worn out to reply, really, but he snuggled closer to Sam and all was well.


End file.
